Growing Out of the Genes
by Megan B. Strange
Summary: It was an expiriment he had long given up on, but a just a few idle words and he had his breakthrough and the solution to all his problems. But when his expiriment goes horribly wrong... is it really the disaster he thought it was? Doc/Susan Incomplete
1. The fateful breakthrough

MVA Growing Out of the Genes

Author Notes: first chapter is a MAJOR spoiler for the movie, just FYI for all of those who have not seen it yet.

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Chapter 1- Breakthrough

The time was 0100 hours, and one certain mad scientist was till going strong about his frantic craft. Under the pale light of the solitary red bulb that hung from the ceiling of the room, thin fingers flicked effortlessly over delicate wires and fragile machine parts; taking what was once the garbage of the world and transforming it into an ingenious ready-made-miracle. He had once believed that, for all his creativity, it would take a miracle to find the solution to his ever prevalent problem… But now…

Years ago, way back when they first drug him off to this dreadful place, he had struggled and agonized over this very thing. He had labored for weeks, months at a time, sometimes even forgetting to eat or sleep as he had searched and studied and experimented to fix the failure of what was supposed to be his greatest achievement. But despite all his efforts, all his tests and theories, nothing had worked. All experiments had resulted in failure, some more spectacularly than others, but still no change, no results, always a failure…

In some ways this could he seen as the prevailing success of his 'greatest achievement': it was one of the things that he had admired about the cockroach, its ability to survive and adapt. That was why he had chose to dedicate his life to harnessing those qualities for the betterment of all human kind… and now he was stuck, fully devoted to it in a way he had not desired to be.

But he got over it. Fifty years has a way of changing one's mind after a while, maybe not always for the best, but the benefits of his _condition_ did by far out way its one great failure. He had stopped aging, his ability to sense his surroundings had quadrupled due to the antennae he had acquired, he had incredible dexterity and could literally climb the walls, his survival rates were off the charts, and he no longer contributed to the growing waste of society, now being able to eat it comfortably. In all, he had finally realized that it was merely vanity that kept him to his task, and an unnecessary vanity at that.

So he had put it away, resigned to his fate and took to other tasks. The arrival of his other _cellmates_ proved a welcomed distraction and the daunting task of educating the Missing Link and later the proclaimed Benzoate Ostylezene Bicarbonate certainly had kept him very busy. And after a while, it wasn't so bad… He almost began to enjoy his new life as Dr. Cockroach, and being allowed to continue his studies was a welcomed blessing, as was his growing love for slippers as it helped smooth over the ruff edges. All in all, they had a good life here at this prison, and despite being rather dull no one could say that it was truly horrible… And he was content.

Until _she_ arrived…

Susan Murphy, 49.6 feet tall, scared, confused and defiantly human. A freak accident with a meteorite had resulted in her unwilling change, and before you could say "here comes the bride" Monger and his men had showed up on the scene and carted her away from the church she had transformed in. She had a life waiting for her and it had been stolen from her in an instant, without regard or consideration to her feelings. He could relate.

That was why he agreed to the experiments. Contrary to what most would assume it was she who asked him if he could change her back. Once Susan had stopped flinching at the sight of them she had taken the time to get to know her fellow inmates, and upon hearing that he was a (mad) scientist, she had gone on her hands and knees and with tear-filled eyes, had begged for him to help her. But how could he refuse her? He had done everything in his power to go back to the way he was, or at least to some semblance of normality, and despite his pronounced lack of success he had still tried. Now here was Susan, in practically the same predicament as he and though he now considered himself a hopeless cause perhaps there was still hope for her…

He began to believe that he was cursed. There was no change, no positive results, only failures after failures. Susan was a good sport about it, never giving up the staunch belief that he would one day figure out a solution, and he tried to remain upbeat and positive around her so that she would not see his growing disappointment with himself. The day that she may have actually grown a few feet, due to another of his failed experiments, was devastating. He laughed as he told her, but on the inside, he could not have been more crushed.

And then they had been granted their freedom. Defeat one robot, and you get a 'get out of jail free' card, by authorization of the president. To say that their hopes had been high would have been an understatement, at least until they caught sight of the monstrosity. It had even caused the fearless Link to back up a few paces, and Susan into near hysterics. Only Bob had not quailed at the sight of it; it seems there are some benefits to being brainless.

Unfortunately, or fortunately whichever way you prefer to view it as, he was not brainless, and he would have to face this alien robot with all his wits intact. Building the rocket had been simple enough, the slight flutter or pride as it worked as he had wanted it too had done wonders to his self esteem, only for it to end up in the river along with the rest of them after they had 'caught' Bob at 85 miles per hour.

It was Susan who finally defeated the robot. Using her meteorite endowed strength to hold it off of herself and the bridge; she was an awe inspiring sight to behold. Even as he clambered up into the robot to disable the deflector shield, he could not help but admire her. Perhaps it was this minor distraction that resulted in his next failure; as instead of turning off the shield, he accidently caused it to beam light into Insectosauraus' eyes, causing the beast to become useless. Berating himself on his carelessness, he scrambled back to the generator, only to catch sight of her.

This Susan was strong. This Susan was confident. Hauling at the bound arms of the robot, she managed to change the giant automaton's center of gravity until it began to fall onto the collapsing bridge. He barely managed to shake himself out of his reverie and get out in time before the bridge finally gave and the robot was destroyed. He had just been so stunned, she had been magnificent, and he could not get it out of his mind.

On the plane ride to their freedom, Susan had been all excitement; speaking nonstop, an amazed smile on her face as she exclaimed with pride over her accomplishment. He could not help but be enamored with her, nor could he help the slight pang he felt when she mentioned her ever waiting Derrick. _'We could all do with a Derrick',_ he had said, and it was the truth. Perhaps if he had someone waiting for him like she did he would have kept up his search for a cure, but he had no one to return to, save for the so called Boards of Science, who had ridiculed him and called him crazy to pursue his chosen fields of expertise.

They had gone to meet him, only for him not to show and Susan had left them in the care of her parents and friends while she went to retrieve him. He had worried about her, as the sun slowly made its descent across the sky and they had unintentionally scared off the party goers. It was he who had convinced the others that they should leave and go look for her; and when they had found her, alone and depressed, the good doctor had been surprised at the wave of ill will he felt towards the man he had never met, for causing her to get her hopes up so.

He had watched, as her sorrow had turned to frustration to anger and finally into joy as she accepted her change. He marveled at her, for her to be so accepting of it. Indeed, she was no longer 'just Susan', but she had never been 'just Susan' to him, he realized, only to watch in helpless horror as she was taken away from them by an Alien Tractor beam.

Helpless that is what he was. And for hours he agonized over it. He didn't know what to do. For all his mind-power, for all his 'mad genius', he had no way to get her back. It took Link's impassioned speech to return his will to him, and to get him to convince Monger to lend them his jetpacks. But he did, and it was with renewed confidence and determination that they set off to rescue their captured friend.

It was a shock to see her small; both a small blow to his pride that a sinister alien could change her back and not he, and also elation that she was now back to her desired form. She was normal. She could go back to her life in society with her friends and family, back to the life she belonged to. Now all they had to do was rescue her so that she could enjoy it. He had blanched horribly at Bob's suggestion, but because he could not think up anything better they had gone with it, and to his disbelief it had actually worked. It seems the sinister alien's clones, for all the technological advancement, were not much brighter than Bob… if that much.

They managed to get Susan away from the clone guard with minimal damages. God, he had been so happy that she was safe, he had nearly kissed her, in front of Link and Bob no less. With her safe, he concocted a plan to rid themselves of their alien problem as well, his confidence boosted by the fact that the alien clones seemed notoriously stupid, until a single slip of the finger ruined all hopes of getting away unnoticed.

Running from the angry hoards of clones, they made it to the main generator, where he was confronted with something that lifted his spirits immensely. The ships computer was controlled by a hexadecimal color-code system, one very much like the one he had wasted endless hours practicing on when he was young and in college. Finally a success, he breached the security and set the ship to self destruct. But his elation was short lived, as the ship began to close the doors to the outside, cutting off their escape route. Link managed to grab one of the alien's hover crafts but with their combined weight, they were too heavy, and as they began to crash, Susan was the only one who managed to get thrown past the doors in time.

They told her to go, as she cried out in frustration at being unable to break the doors she had so easily smashed before, and he was glad that he had managed to save her in time. She was normal sized again and she could return to her home and family again. If anyone deserved to get out of this alive, it was she.

As the timer counted down and the ship crumbled to bits about them, he had felt a sort of peace fall over him. This was it then, shaking hands with Link and Bob as the clock began its final count, he humored bob for what he thought was the last time. As a massive piece of the ship crashed down towards them, he had flinched; ready for the inevitable… that hadn't come.

It was Susan. Somehow she had regained the quantonium that had bestowed her with her massive size and strength, and had caught the falling debris and saved them. She had turned back, of her own free will; to save them when they had told her to save herself… she was truly magnificent.

He had watched on in awe as she ran through the crashing ship, smashing effortlessly through the metal walls and leaping fearlessly into the open air as the self-destruct was finally set off in a powerful explosion. She was, to use her own words, simply amazing, all 49.6 feet of her, and _Derrick_ had been a fool not to see it. And he had watched her again with pride as, when they landed, she had turned down _Derrick's_ oh so _generous_ offer with all the flair that could be desired. She was wonderful.

As Derrick had crashed to the ground, Monger had in turn requested their aid in defeating a gigantic snail that was attacking Paris that very moment and he had watched as Susan's eyes light up in delight. And now they were back; only staying at their old prison for as long as it took for the new building that was to be their home to be built. It was to be by the coast, in a wide, sparsely populated area. Were Insecto could fly and Susan could stretch her legs with ease, and not at all like the cold, unfriendly place they had stayed at for the past fifty years. A real home.

Perhaps that was what got him stuck on the idea of his problem once again. The idea that he would be living in the same home as the woman the found himself unable to resist falling for. Yes, he could admit it now, he was completely enamored with her… but there arose his dilemma, or rather his insecurities. Who would love a cockroach, or someone with the face of one? If he could but return to just the barest semblance of a human face, his confidence would grow threefold, but as he returned to this long forsaken experiment, he was faced with failure yet again.

Days of failures turned to weeks, weeks to months, and he once again started to loose hope that he could ever separate the cockroach genes from his own. He'd tired nearly everything he could think of… the DNA strands were just too tightly bound. He could no more remove the cockroach genes than he could his own human ones. And he began to despair...

Until she gave him his breakthrough.

It had happened at lunch. In the prevailing weeks after the announcement of the building of the Monster House, as Monger so eloquently put it, the ongoing topic was about home life. Link was unsure about it all was worried that this would just become a 'nicer cage' and Bob, ever curious, asked all sorts of nonsensical questions about what he thought it would be like. Even he could not relate as his own home life spent was spent mostly in a lab; really it was only Susan that had any true experience with what a home was like. And naturally all these questions would lead her to reminisce.

That particular lunch had her talking about her child hood; laughing and joking about how, when she was really little she was always growing out of her jeans. Shooting up like a little weed, she wearing skirts and dresses just so she could keep in her clothes.

It was that one phrase: growing out of her jeans. It got stuck in his mind, repeating over and over like it was something important. It bothered him as he listed to the rest of her story with half an ear. Over and over: growing out of her jeans, growing out of the jeans, _growing out of the GENES!_

"EUREKA!" This was it! The solution to all his problems! And he leapt off towards his lab to begin at once.

He had originally made the experiment so that the Cockroach genes would fuse seamlessly to the genes of humans, giving them all the benefits of a cockroach's survival and etcetera. The side-affect of having the head of a cockroach was simply a factor of the two strands being fused together to closely. He had focused so much on removing the cockroach DNA, knowing that it was made to be tenacious, that he had completely over looked his own human genes. If he could somehow stimulate his human genes and make them grow, becoming the dominate strand, his face should return to a more human physique.

It was perfect! It was foolproof! It was_ fail_ proof! And he had Susan to thank as his inspiration!

Not even _he_ could mess this up now…

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AN: Here it is the first chapter of my epic MVA fanfic. It was a lot more focused on what happened in the movie than I thought it would be but I think that it ties into the story rather well. I am a full time shipper of Susan/Doc fan fiction, and it is also a key point in the story as well so we should be good. There isn't very much dialog in this chapter, I'm more of a descriptive writer than anything else, but there will be in more in the others. Anyways here it is, please review and tell me what you think!

Much Love,  
Demimeg, minor goddess of insecure love


	2. Caution: Mad Scientist At Work

MVA out Grown Genes

Author Notes: Here is the second chapter! I hope you like it. It took me quite a while to get the mindset of it right, and I'm still not too sure about the flow, but whatever. Tell me what you think, and above all else… ENJOY!

_Disclaimer: I own nothing, save for the voices in my head… Or do they own me…?_

Chapter 2- Caution: Mad Scientist at Work

This… was going to be a delicate operation.

All his analyses pointed in that direction. Yes, in theory___if_ he stimulated the human strand of DNA in just precisely the right way, the cockroach like features should be replaced with his own human ones. However, it would have to be in just the most absolute correct manner to the nth mille-decimal, or the possibilities for failure would be simply astronomical.

After a meticulous evaluation he had narrowed down the varying possibilities: there was a 50% chance that there would be no change, 45% chance that all would go exactly as planned, 4% chance that he would become even more like a cockroach by actually weakening the human strand instead of strengthening it, a 0.98% chance that he would die by some kind of mechanical failure or chemical imbalance, and a 0.02% chance that … something else will happen.

It bothered him, that 0.02%. His last self-experiment had had that very same unknown factor, only if his memory was correct it had actually been a 16% chance, but the possibility of all going correctly had been a 79.9% chance; the thought that something could go wrong that he could not plan for had been near laughable…

Actually he _had_ laughed, loudly too… Bothersome habit.

Someone would think that it would be the 0.98% chance of death that he would be more concerned with, but for some reason it did not, at least, not as much as that blasted 0.02%. It weighed heavy on his mind as he went about his work, gathering his needed supplies for his project, plagued his thoughts at night. He had managed to work his calculations to minimize the 'unknown' factors, but there was just no way to get rid of it completely.

Sitting at his desk late one night under the solitary glow of the ever present red bulb, he finally confronted himself about this problem of his. For the past three days he had agonized and worked, reworked, and then reworked some more the same blasted formulas, almost obsessively trying to rid himself of that horrible unknown. Had he been working so hard to remove the possibility of death, he would have paid it no mind, but it was just an unknown, and as a scientist there was always going to be an unknown factor in theories.

"Alright Roach," He said to himself. Glaring at the papers that were littering his desk he rubbed his eyes tiredly, "Why have you got your coat all in a bunch over something as ridiculous as an 'unknown factor' of all things? It can't be helped, and it can't be removed, so why are you stressing so much?"

Heaving a defeated sigh, he let his cockroach like head fall into his hands. He knew why. It was because it had happened before. It was why he was like this in the first place, that damnable unknown. The worst thing that can happen to a scientist during a self-tested experiment is to have something happen that they are not prepared for; or at least that's the way it was for him during his oh so fateful self-tested experiment. Perhaps he was a bit traumatized. Ha! Of course he was traumatized; he had the head of a cockroach for heaven's sake!

"So what are you going to do about it?" He spoke, continuing his self monolog. "Are you going to go through with the experiment, and risk the chance that the unmentionable _might_ possibly happen again? Or are you going to stay as you are, and live a lonely life forever as a roach?"

That was the crux of the matter after all. To do or not to do, that was the question. Raising his head, he steeled his resolve. He would do it.

Really it wasn't even a question in his mind. He had spent years on research and experimentation, and now when he finally had had a breakthrough and he could actually start _doing _something, he was _not_ going to back down simply because he was scared of another accident. He would proceed with the experiment.

Shuffling his papers of formulas and equations, he piled them into a neat stack and had gone to bed. He would start building in the morning.

It had been with renewed vigor that he had set about his task. It was such a relief to finally start building things, and now with the newly established freedom Monger was allowing him to have access to the better garbage. The uptight general wouldn't let him get his hands on any _real_ science equipment, he had learned better than to do that last time, but still it was much better stuff than those silly Lego's he had had to use before. He had been like a child let loose in a candy store when they had first brought the pile of junk in. Link had laughed at his reaction, but he had brushed it off, scoffing that only the truly genius mind would understand his excitement… he had then proceeded to squeak like a school girl over the sight of a pair of slightly damaged slippers, and thus ruining whatever image he had managed to establish.

But still, the quality of the tools he had to work with now could not be denied. And he would need every last bit if he was going to pull this off successfully.

Humming merrily he got to work with the welder, melding together the bits of scrap metal that would come to be the transform chamber. Sparks flying as he worked with the delicate wiring and tubes, he was the happiest he had been in a long time. An old microwave, a treasure among treasures, was dissembled and combined with an old transistor radio; the combined wave-radiation at the correct frequency would prove to be vital in stimulating the DNA contained within him.

He was at a loss for a while as to what to use to actually stimulate the genes to grow however. Monger, despite the relaxed regulation of his garbage use, still wouldn't let him get his hands on any chemicals. Not even baking soda and vinegar, not after that one incident. And without the use of such chemicals he would have to rely on just the wave radiation frequency, but that would double the 'unknown factor' to a point that he was not comfortable with… He needed chemicals.

"_Uranium, Plutonium,"_ he rambled in his thoughts, going through the list of chemicals he was not to use, that would have been so very useful, _"Beryllium, Bicarbonate, Iodine, Oxide… wait, Bicarbonate… Bob!"_

Sudden inspiration struck, sending his whirling thoughts off on a tangent. Bob was technically a living combination of altered genetics and chemicals, and although that could raise the debate about what exactly the definition for _living_ is, it could not be debated that he was not a quite animated fellow. Albeit a bit dim, being brainless and all, but certainly capable of feelings and emotions which he proved by carting around that Jell-O of his…

Speaking of which, she was starting to get a little moldy again. It had taken them quite a while to figure out a solution to the Jell-O problem, Bob loved her to death and couldn't bear to be parted from her and would be devastated if she were to 'die'. So Susan had come up with the marvelous idea that Jell-O would get homesick, every month or so, and would require to be allowed to 'go home', where Susan's mother would make a new Jell-O and send it back on the newly cleaned plate. They were now on Jell-O XXV, and Bob was none the wiser and always overjoyed to have his beloved Jelly back…

Still it was astounding to study the changes that would occur to the Jell-O over the time of a month. The little green glob would start getting dingy after about a week, and by the end of the month would be covered in unsightly splotches of mold and more than likely covered in bacteria…!

Bacteria! That was the solution to his chemical problem. Bacteria have one of the most phenomenal growth rates known to man. A mere second and a cultures population can multiply exponentially into thousands, millions, and even billions. If he could somehow, duplicate the growth factor of bacteria and apply it to his own genes… Why, it would be merely moments before he would be back to his human state.

All this took nearly a second of thought before he was up and running in search of Bob and his girlfriend, and under the pretence of a simple checkup, managed to get a sample of the bacteria which he would preserve in a culture until he would have need of it. He was halfway there.

His great machine towered in his chamber, a hodge-podge of car parts, bike parts and other such mechanical contraptions, thrown together like an intricate 'Frankenstein'. It was beautiful and horrifying at the same time, and he could never quite help the slightly maniacal laughter that bubbled up from within him as he gazed at it.

It seemed to echo his previous experiment in form and appearance. It made sense to him that the machines would be similar. One that made him what he was now, another to change him back, both the same yet created different. Rather Zen he thought, when he considered it. But Zen or not, he was nearing completion, and soon he would no longer see the face of a bug before him, but the face of a man.

Oh, he would still be a monster, he was sure of that. The cockroach genes were too tenacious to get rid of completely, as he well knew. He would still have a craving for slippers and the ability to survive even a nuclear holocaust if all his calculations were correct. He would more than likely still be able to scale walls even. He just did not wish to look like an insect anymore. It was vanity, through and through, but one that he could not deny himself. He simply wanted to be able to look into the mirror and see his own face, a face that no one would run screaming from. A human face…

It had hurt him, that first time he had cause a crowed to flee in terror, a dampening to his self-esteem. He may seem the confident type, but that was merely because most of the time he was too lost in his own scheming mind to pay attention to what others think and whatnot. He hadn't been an unpopular fellow during his life, and most certainly not a shrinking violet when it came to the ladies, but neither had he been the staunch socialite. But the absolute shock of his change, that he was no longer a man who could make women swoon, but rather faint from fear had done quite a number on him…

But now was not the time to reminisce about the past. Now was the time for careful testing and examination. He would not submit himself to his own device until he was absolutely positive that all would go as planned. He would not gamble on chance like he had all those years before. He had faced the consequences once and did not like the look of them. No this time, he would not fail; instead he would correct the flaw to his greatest achievement, and be a monster only in name and no longer appearance.

Authors Notes: Tada! Ok, it didn't have as much dialog in it as I had hoped, but it's still there. There will be some honest to goodness dialog in the next chapter, as well as the other characters. I know this has been mostly Dr. Cockroach centric, and I meant it to be, but not exclusively. Next chapter: Friendly Concern for Your Resident Scientist coming to you soon!


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